Ava Sant Antonio Abate Whore ❤️❤️

About Bari

I’m sittin’ here, mask foggin’ up, thinkin’—whore’s a word with claws. *Talk to Her* vibes again—“The past is a trap”—damn right. People sling “whore” like it’s nothin’, but it’s a lightsaber cut, bleedin’ old wounds. Pisses me off when dudes toss it casual—bro, you don’t know the weight. I’d choke ‘em with the Force, but—eh, too messy. Happiest I get is seein’ it reclaimed—gals on X postin’ “proud whore” shit. Fuck yeah, stick it to ‘em.

The Cult of the Fires of Sant'Antonio Abate in Calabria

I got up, all flustered, and headed towards the church. Sant’Antonio Abate, the big one. It’s beautiful, man. The architecture? Chef’s kiss! But I was still mad about the pigeon. I walked in, hoping for some peace. But nope! There was a wedding happening. The bride looked stunning, but the music? Ugh, too loud! I couldn’t even hear myself think.

Xerox Co-Founder Memorialize With Astoria Street Co-Naming